Back Home
by IL0veP0keSpe
Summary: Lucy never remembered that horrible incident, the night they were separated.


**A/N**: It's a lazy Sunday afternoon, and the electricity's out…

I didn't feel like working on any of my current fanfictions, and I just didn't feel like writing a new series, so here's a longshot. It's purpose is to cure me of my damned writer's block. I hope you like it, and it's also my first Fairy Tail fic. Needless to say, it's GrayLu (a pairing I worship too much).

Done in a hurry, because my laptop only has about two hours of battery life.

(Done distractedly too, because I was editing a video.)

Warning: Character OOC-ness level is over 9000!

* * *

A maiden sat by one of the windows in her room. She was reading a book of poetry—a book she had been saving especially for a sunny, fair day such as this one. Yet she had lost interest in it, and was staring out the window, fantasizing about wonderful adventures.

The girl was Lucy Heartfilia, and she was the princess of the kingdom of Magnolia. She was kind and benevolent, much loved by her subjects; she was wise and clever. And she was loyal to her family, always striving to uphold the reputation of the Heartfilias.

That was all well and good, but Lucy craved something more. She wanted adventure—she wanted to go out and travel across the land; she wanted to see what it was like outside the confinements of her castle. Lucy wanted to know what it was like to make her own decisions, to do things for herself, instead of always following a path that was lain out for her.

It wasn't that she hated her life here. She loved her family, her father, King Jude, her mother, Queen Layla, and her sister, Princess Wendy. She didn't hate her lessons, she didn't hate her duties, she didn't hate having to be perfect all the time. She just wanted something different. A change, for once.

Lucy sighed and closed her book. No use thinking of finishing it now. And she had really been looking forward to finishing all of Shakespeare's works today.

A soft knock came at her door. "Come in," replied Lucy.

Her sister came bouncing in.

Wendy Heartfilia, five years younger than Lucy, would never have been mistaken for the latter's sister. Whereas Lucy had long, golden locks, Wendy had soft, blue curls. Lucy was kind, ladylike, and reserved; Wendy was energetic, friendly, and generally boyish. They were very different from each other, but you would have to be blind to not notice the unmistakable love and devotion between them.

"Lucy-oneesama!" cried Wendy. "Papa's calling you!"

Lucy stood up. "Did he say why, Wendy-chan?" she asked.

Wendy shook her head. "Uh-uh. He just sent me to call you. He said it was of the _utmost i-i-import-i-importance_," she said, bringing out the big word with a great effort.

The older princess smiled and ruffled Wendy's already messy hair. "I'll be there. Will you come with me?"

"Uh-huh!" beamed Wendy. She looked up immensely to her older sister and tried her hardest to be just like her. That said, she didn't necessarily succeed all the time.

They walked to the throne room, Lucy in a graceful stride, while Wendy burned off energy by circling around Lucy and asking wild questions. Occasionally, they came across a servant—Lucy would always smile sweetly and thank them for their hard work. Wendy tried to copy her sister, but failed miserably, always remembering to thank the servants too late.

They reached the large, oak wood doors. Two servants pushed them open for the two princesses. On the throne sat their father, King Jude. He had a smile on his face.

"Good morning, my dears," he called out. Lucy beamed and curtsied elegantly. Wendy grinned curtsied as well, albeit rather clumsily.

"Lucy, my dear, I have a matter of utmost importance to discuss with you," the king said. At these words, Wendy giggled slightly.

"It may be rather bothersome, but I would like for you to travel to the kingdom of Edolas for a…diplomatic matter. You see, we have recently been at war with the said kingdom, and, under a temporary flag of truce, both King Makarov and I saw fit to stop fighting."

"That said, your role will be to go there and thank the king for his kindness. We have already officially stopped the war—both sides have withdrawn—but this is something of a formality. Of course, you will be accompanied by my men, and, if you wish it, Wendy may go with you as well."

Wendy immediately turned to her sister. "Oh, please, please, _please_ Oneesama! Let me come with you!" she pleaded.

"Of course, Father. I will do as you say." Lucy bowed slightly to the king. "But…I would rather Wendy didn't come. She is too young to be involved in any of this yet, even if she would just stand beside me."

A look of horror appeared on Wendy's face.

The old king held back a chuckle. "It shall be as you say, my darling. Be prepared to leave immediately."

Tears filled Wendy's eyes. "B-But Oneesama! You can't just leave me!" she protested.

Lucy ruffled her sister's hair. "I'm sorry, but just this time. Next time I go, I promise I'll take you with me," smiled Lucy.

Wendy grew quiet. She was very tempted to throw a tantrum—if it had been anyone other than her sister she definitely would have thrown one—yet absolute respect for her oneesama kept her from doing so. "Alright…"

"Good. I'll be down shortly, Father. I presume the coach will be ready by then?"

The king nodded.

"Then, excuse us, Father."

"You are dismissed."

* * *

Half an hour later, Lucy was but a few miles away from the kingdom of Edolas.

She was perfectly composed. This would be nothing more than a friendly visit. All she had to do was to thank King Makarov for his kindness.

Along the way, she saw many of her subjects. She always smiled and waved to them, who likewise stopped what they were doing in order to wave back to the beloved princess.

The coach stopped in front of a grand palace. Lucy secretly thought that their own castle was better, though, but she may have been biased.

Two young maidservants smiled at her and motioned for her to follow them. Lucy noted that the whole time, neither one of the servants spoke—they communicated with their expressions and hand gestures. She wondered if they were mute or if it was a policy that servants could not talk to guests.

Lucy walked along the fine, red carpet that led to the throne room. She used the time to compose herself and prepare to greet the king. It's not that she was nervous—it's just that Lucy was a bit of a perfectionist and she did not like anything out of order.

Two oak doors very similar to the ones in her castle opened before her. On the throne sat a tiny mite of a king, barely four feet tall, she supposed. It made her wonder how strong he was, to be the general of one of the most feared armies despite his size.

King Makarov smiled at Lucy. "So, you are Jude's daughter? Great Scott, what a likeness! Although, you _do_ look more like your mother than your father but, all the same—anyway, you must have heard of me, I presume?" he asked, peering down at her.

Lucy curtsied politely. "Yes, your Highness. I have been sent by my father to thank you for your kindness," she said, sweetly.

The king laughed a hearty, booming laugh. Lucy looked up and gave a giggle as well. "You are as pure, and innocent as they say," remarked the king. "It makes me glad that I agreed to a truce with your father."

"No one is more glad than I, your Highness. My land is very precious to me, and nothing made me happier than when it was spared."

King Makarov looked pleased and proud. "My, my, you have quite the silver tongue! You remind me of your mother when she was your age—I could never say no to her!"

Lucy flashed her best smile and bowed slightly.

"Old man!" came a deep voice. "You having a meeting or something?"

The voice came from outside. Almost immediately though, the same voice said, "OW!" very loudly, as though someone had hit him suddenly.

"Shut your mouth! He's meeting with the princess of Magnolia! You can't be noisy!" said a more hushed voice, yet Lucy could still hear it very clearly.

The king growled. "Those two will be the death of me," he sighed.

The oak doors burst open, and two people walked in.

The new guys looked like twins. One was a girl, though, and the other was a boy.

The girl had semi-long, wavy hair, and was wearing furs that were definitely inappropriate for the hot weather. Her blue eyes were piercing, and her skin was very pale. She looked exasperated.

The boy had spiky hair, and he wore lighter clothes than his look-a-like. (Lucy guessed they weren't twins, but they looked so much alike that they might as well have been.)

He had black eyes and an easy smile. A thin scar ran above his right eye.

The moment her eyes fell on him, Lucy's heart started beating a little more quickly. Her face flushed—butterflies started dancing around in her stomach.

_Wh-what is this? St-stop it, me! _Lucy chided herself. A princess of her station and reputation should _never_ feel this way.

The lad saw her and smiled mischievously. He was sending a message. _Hey lady! I'm warning you, look the other way for a second and you'll regret it!_

Lucy decided right there that he was _definitely _trouble.

"My children, why do you insist on disrupting every meeting I have? Are the constant parties not enough for you?" asked the exasperated king.

The girl harrumphed. "Papa, it is only Gray here that enjoys them. I have quite enough on my hands trying to keep him out of trouble," she said. She seemed to possess a French—or perhaps Russian—accent.

The boy, Gray, apparently, waved his hand. "Yeah, yeah. Look, it isn't my fault that you're too uptight, Juvia. Why don't you let me have fun at least _once_ in your life?"

"You don't know how to control yourself. You drink and drink with Papa's knights, and you have _no_ sense of when to stop drinking!" Juvia scolded.

Gray let Juvia's lecture in one ear and out the other. In other words, he was not paying attention at all.

The old king sighed. "Princess, I appreciate your coming here. Give your father my respects. I suggest you leave while I deal with…family matters."

Gray winked at Lucy. Lucy stuck her chin up and ignored him. On her way out, he stuck out his foot. Lucy tripped, but regained her balance quickly. She smoothed out her white gown.

"Good day, _sir_," she said haughtily. Lucy strode out.

Gray grinned. It was going to be fun messing with her.

* * *

Lucy walked towards her coach, accompanied the whole way by the same two maidservants who went with her inside. She suspected it was to protect her against their troublesome prince.

She walked to the spot where her coach was—no, where her coach _had been_. It was nowhere in sight.

The driver must have went off to water the horses. It would take a while, so it seemed that Lucy was stuck here. As she had no desire to go back in, she told the two maidservants that she would be quite fine on her own outside. The two maidservants looked anxiously at each other and hesitated.

"Oujo-sama, are you sure?" they asked. This was the first time Lucy had heard either of them speak. She knew now that they weren't mute.

Lucy sighed. No doubt they worried what their prince might do. "Yes, I am quite sure," she smiled.

They hesitated a bit more before finally curtsying with smiles on their faces. They both went back inside the castle.

Lucy kicked a pebble on the pavement. Oh, why couldn't her driver hurry up and come back? Every second that she remained here meant more time that the prince could catch up and—

"Why, hello there, Hime-_sama_."

And of course, he was here. Unwillingly, Lucy turned around, knowing full well who had spoken. There, behind her, was the same raven-haired boy from the throne room. He had a wider grin than ever on his face, and he walked leisurely towards her, like he had all the time in the world.

"What do you want?" asked Lucy sharply. Now that she'd gotten a good look at him, he was better-looking than she had thought. His black eyes glinted with mirth; his body was well-toned for a boy of his age. His teeth were perfect, and he smiled like it was the easiest thing in the world. Really, he would've been her type if—no, no, no! She can't allow herself to think like this! _Bad Lucy_, she chided herself.

The prince looked surprised with her curtness. "Is it so wrong that I wanted to introduce myself to the visitor of my father?" he asked in a falsely innocent voice. He blinked his eyes pleadingly and pouted. It was so cute, Lucy almost wanted to forgive him—_almost_.

"I was not aware that you were the polite type," replied Lucy icily.

"Ouch. You really hate me then?" the prince winced.

Lucy actually giggled—she looked as surprised as the prince did as the unfamiliar sound escaped from her throat. "Hate is too strong a word, is it not?" she smiled.

The prince blushed and—heavens forbid—looked embarrassed. Lucy felt a strange rush of warmth when she saw this. The prince was undeniably cute.

"My name is Lucy Heartfilia, daughter of King Jude and Queen Layla of Magnolia. It is very nice to meet you," said Lucy, extending her hand.

The prince, recovering somewhat, grasped it. "I'm Gray Fullbuster, son of King Makarov and Queen Mavis of Edolas—although I should mention that my mother is dead. The loudmouth you saw was my neesan, Juvia."

"Um…alright?"

"Wait—I suppose King Makarov and Queen Mavis aren't _really_ my parents," backtracked Gray.

Lucy was confused. "Eh? What do you mean?"

"Well…as a child, they told me that they found me wandering around the streets. They've been trying for so long to have a son—they only got my annoying-as-hell sister, though—and I guess, when they found me, they decided to take me in. Not that I'm complaining. This life has been good to me."

"O-oh…" Lucy couldn't believe that they had just met, yet he was already revealing his secrets. He must've been a very forward person, or perhaps he just really felt that he could trust Lucy. Warmth filled her at the last thought. She felt giddy, excited. When was the last time she had felt this way?

"What about your real parents?" Lucy asked.

Gray waved his hand indifferently. "I don't know. Like I said, the royal family took me in as a child from the streets, so I guess my parents weren't the caring type. Not that I remember them. Or care."

Lucy started feeling depressed. It was saddening to hear him talk about his past life—yet the nonchalant manner in which he said them almost made her think he was joking. But she had a feeling he wasn't.

Gray started to smile. Lucy shuddered. It struck her as a very _evil_ smile.

"So, you still waiting for your driver?" he asked mischievously.

"Yes—wait, how did you know?" Lucy asked, panicking suddenly. She did not like where this was going.

"Of course I know," he replied casually. "Because I'm the one who told him to go back without you."

. . .

Forget her family reputation, she was going to slap this idiot.

"You WHAT?" yelled Lucy.

"I told your driver that you were planning to stay here for a week as an _extension_ of your diplomatic duties," he replied lazily. "I also told him to tell your father that this was all your idea. I also sent a note along with them, telling them that it really _was_ your idea. I forged your signature, so it's okay."

Lucy tried to compose herself by taking deep, steadying breaths. Never. Never in her life had she been so ticked off by _anyone_.

Gray noticed her anger and started laughing. "Don't worry, Hime-sama. Juvia has plenty of clothes for you to wear. So, you better start settling yourself in, Hime-sama, because I specifically told your driver to come back in a week, no earlier than that. Enjoy your stay!"

. . .

Forget her status, she was going to _kill_ this idiot.

* * *

"I apologize for my brother's idiocy. You'd get used to it, though," said Juvia calmly.

Lucy and Juvia were in the latter's posh room. After the situation had been made clear (a different, more Gray-favoring version of the story had been given to King Makarov though), it was decided immediately that Lucy would share with Juvia in the royal princess's room.

"I can't believe you put up with that, Juvia," said Lucy sympathetically. She could not for the life of her see how Juvia could live with Gray and not go insane.

"After living with him everyday, all his idiocies become more or less tolerable, and you lose less sanity. You should try it, Lucy. It'll give you that sense of adventure you want," smiled Juvia.

"I did say that I wanted adventure, but this was definitely not the kind I wanted," sighed Lucy.

A few minutes into their first conversation, Lucy and Juvia had instantly established a sisterly-BFF kind of relationship. They had forgone the use of suffixes long ago, and they spoke to each other more or less as equals.

"I must say, I love your wardrobe," remarked the blonde, gesturing at the lovely dresses scattered on a velvet couch. "Though I have to say, they are too…warm for my taste," added Lucy, wrinkling her nose at the fur on Juvia's dresses.

The bluenette smirked. "I can't say I like cool, airy dresses too well. They make me feel…_naked_."

Lucy propped herself up on her elbow on Juvia's soft, soft bed. "Well, I think that you have a lovely figure, and that you shouldn't cover yourself up too much. Look at me!" she giggled, standing up and flaunting her revealing dress. "_I_ certainly look fine wearing such dresses!"

Juvia chuckled. "You are undeniably beautiful," she agreed. Lucy blushed at the compliment. "But you have much to learn, newbie. Less is not necessarily always more."

"I hate to interrupt this girly bonding session," came a voice from outside. Juvia and Lucy both looked up at the general direction. Gray had just walked in, wearing a smirk on his face. "But Dad is calling all of us to dinner."

"Look at you, delivering Papa's messages," said Juvia dryly. "Maybe there really _is_ hope for you, yet." Both girls looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"I am glad you think so," Gray sighed as he watched the two irresponsible damsels—not that he was one to talk, though. He looked over to Lucy and seemed to realize that she was showing a great bit of skin—from her ample cleavage, to her smooth, creamy white legs. He blushed and looked away.

Lucy did not notice. She finished laughing.

"Alright, I'm sobered up now. _Shall we go to dinner_?" she asked, the last part in a seductive Italian accent.

"_We shall, my darling_," replied Juvia with equal verve. Both girls burst out laughing once again and stood up for real.

Gray slapped his hand to his forehead. _Honestly, they're going to be the death of me… oh, wait, this is probably exactly how neesan feels when having to deal with me._

* * *

Dinner was a pleasant affair. Lucy saw many familiar dishes from her homeland, as well as new ones exclusive to Edolas. The king did not all seem perturbed that she had decided to stay—well, _Gray_ had apparently decided for her—and in fact, seemed to think of Lucy as a daughter. And in a way, she was.

King Makarov was the father of Juvia and Gray—he had a brother, Gildarts, who was the Duke of Earthland. Gildarts was the grandfather of Lucy—he was Queen Layla's father. This was said casually over dinner, yet Lucy had been so surprised that she almost spewed her dinner—_almost_.

Gray started grinning like an idiot when he heard this. He looked at Lucy. "That means…I'm your uncle! Therefore I have authority over you and you have to do everything I say!" he exclaimed.

The tiny—sorry, _vertically-challenged_ king chuckled. "In theory, yes, but Princess Lucy here is so much more mature than you, it would actually be _her_ you'd have to follow."

Lucy stuck her tongue out at him. So much for being mature.

"Wait…if you and my father are related—sort of—then why were the two of you at war?" Lucy asked. King Makarov's face darkened.

"Family ties have nothing to do with war. The cause was, ah, a personal matter."

The blonde considered this and decided not to ask any further. She finished her meal and enjoyed it immensely.

* * *

Over the next week, Lucy actually enjoyed staying at the palace. She grew closer to Juvia each day, and befriended the castle staff, who were very charmed with the princess' kind and sweet ways.

And the impossible happened—Gray actually started behaving. Juvia, and the castle staff, and the king as well, noticed that whenever Lucy was around, the raven-haired prince was generally quieter, more pleasant, and more polite. He started using _please_—it was a miracle.

All could see that Lucy had a most positive effect on Gray. Perhaps he could really change for the better.

Too soon, it was time for her to leave. Lucy was accompanied out to her coach by Juvia, Gray, the king, and most of the castle staff. They were all going to miss the princess.

"Goodbye," Lucy smiled. "I promise I'll be back soon!"

"_Oui_. You'd better, Lucy!" called Juvia. "I'll visit you too!"

"Give your parents my regards," chuckled King Makarov.

"Goodbye, Lucy-dono! We hope you enjoyed your stay!" chorused the present staff.

As for Gray, he flashed a silly smile at Lucy and ruffled her hair, much like she used to do to Wendy. "Stay safe, young 'un," he said, talking in an idiotic accent. "Constant vigilance!"

"Yes, sir," giggled Lucy, fixing her hair. She stepped onto her coach and waved one last time to the crowd gathered outside. "Goodbye! I will see you all again, soon!" she called out as the coach started moving. The people waved back. They were the last things she saw as her coach rounded a corner.

* * *

She had been expecting a warm welcome as she came home from her week-long visit. She did not expect what she saw, however.

The palace was empty, devoid of its usual chatter. The birds had fallen silent, the servants nowhere to be seen. The usual cheery wind that blew through the garden was gone.

It was quiet. Eerily quiet.

"What in the world?" wondered Lucy.

She walked straight in. She looked around. No one. There was no one.

A servant passed through behind her—stealthily, like he didn't want to be noticed—but Lucy _did_ notice and hurried straight to him. "What is happening here? Where is everyone?"

The frightened servant shook his head. He pointed feebly in the direction of the throne room. Lucy turned away and ran to the room.

The giant oak doors had never scared her before, but in the imposing silence, they looked intimidating. She hesitated, then pushed them firmly and went in.

She was horrified by the sight.

Her mother, usually so cheerful, carefree, was kneeling on the floor, hugging herself and weeping. Wendy sat beside her. No doubt she didn't know what was going on, but she knew her mother was upset, so Wendy was crying as well. Her father sat on the throne as usual, his head in his hands, groaning.

The multitudes of servants that had been missing were right in the throne room. They were sobbing quietly, and they looked every bit as depressed as the royal family. Lucy could not make heads or tails of it and immediately rushed to the queen.

"Mother? What's wrong?" she asked gently.

Queen Layla looked up and gulped. "Y-y-your brother…" was all she could muster before she broke down into fresh tears.

Wendy sobbed. "Oniisama…"

Lucy was shocked. _Brother?_

She went to her father. "Father… what is this all about?"

He looked up at her, and she saw that his eyes were hollow. He looked empty, worn—tired of living. "We failed, Lucy. We could not get your brother back. We…we tried, but we could not. I'm sorry…" Tears poured down onto his face.

Lucy stepped back. _What brother?_

"Father…I must confess that I don't know what you're talking about. _What brother_?"

The servants shook. "She really does not remember… poor princess. Our beloved princess—she can't remember," they whispered among themselves.

"Lucy. Have you ever wondered where you got that insignia on your hand? Have you ever thought about it?" asked King Jude.

Lucy looked at the back of her shaking hand. There was the pink mark—a mark she'd always wondered about, yet had liked so much. Since she'd liked it, she hadn't really thought much about it—but what did this have to do with her brother?

"Lucy, when you, Wendy, and your brother were a child, King Makarov's forces stormed our castle. They tried to take you three away from us. They said—they said you wouldn't be happy here. They said I was too—too busy ruling the world to care for you."

"Of course, my own forces fought back. During the raid, unfortunately, you had lost your arm—and your memory of that day, and your brother, apparently. And your brother was taken."

"We had the best doctors try to heal you, but they couldn't. So we turned to the magicians. They said they would replace your arm with a brand new one, but they demanded to brand their symbol on your hand as a price. It showed that you would belong to them but—I, I wasn't thinking—you were losing so much blood and—and—I'm sorry. Lucy, I'm sorry."

Lucy felt like she was losing her arm again. This story was making her feel worse than she had ever felt before—almost as if she was dying.

"And ever since, we've been at war with Makarov in an attempt to get your brother back. The only reason for a truce was because we've seen your brother. He seemed very happy there. We decided to let him stay, if he was happy there. If it's what was good for him…" the king broke down and wept.

Lucy fled. She didn't want to be near this. She didn't want to see her family's agony.

She ran to the stables. There, her stallion, Sagittarius, was waiting. Lucy instantly clambered up on her back and kicked the horse's side lightly. The horse reared up and galloped out of the stable.

Lucy was going away. She was going to head to King Makarov. She was going to find her brother.

* * *

She arrived in half an hour, with Sagittarius at top speed. The horse was quite tired, so she let him graze. She walked up the castle steps.

As she did so, a horrible thought crossed her mind. What if—what if—

"Hello, Lucy."

Lucy turned around and saw her brother.

Gray was looking at her, looking horribly sad.

"Y-you? You're my brother? I—I…" Lucy stammered. Gray looked down, as if he were ashamed. He walked to her. She stepped back.

"Why did you lie? Why didn't you tell me?" asked Lucy. Tears were streaming down her face. "You _knew_?"

"Yes, Lucy. I knew. And I knew that you wouldn't recognize me. But it hurt. It hurt not being able to tell you," he cried.

"Why couldn't you tell me?" shouted Lucy. "Why?"

"Father…no, King Makarov ordered me not to. He—he said it was for your own good. And, I couldn't. You would tell your parents, they'd look for me, and—well, I hardly need to explain the rest. But Lucy, I wanted to. You have to believe me."

"I can't! Gray, I can't! Look, when I came here, I knew you were trouble. I knew—I thought I wouldn't like you. But spending that week here with you—alone or with others—I couldn't help myself! I started to like you… I fell in love with you!" Lucy confessed. "And now, you tell me you're my brother? I can't love you if you're my brother! I can't have feelings for you if you're my brother! It's wrong—not telling me was wrong! Tell me, did you _ever_ have any regard for what I might _feel_?"

Gray was standing speechless. His mouth was open, but Lucy could not feel any embarrassment. All she wanted was a answer.

"I liked you too. And it's even more wrong for me, when I knew you were my sister. But…Lucy, like you said, I couldn't help myself. I loved you," he said in a low voice.

Lucy should've been thrilled under normal circumstances. But all she felt was anger. "It's wrong, Gray. We might not have been able to do anything about it, but—it's…it's wrong."

Suddenly the doors burst open. From the castle poured out a dozen soldiers, with King Makarov right behind them. Juvia was with them, weeping.

"I told you, you shouldn't tell her," Makarov said in a hard, cold voice. "I told you what would happen to her."

Gray was shocked. "No—Father, no!"

"Don't call me Father anymore, lowlife," griped Makarov. He pointed at Lucy. "Soldiers, you know what to do."

"Father, NO!" screamed Juvia.

A second. It barely took a second for the soldier's blade to impale Lucy's body. As she fell, Gray lunged to catch her frail body. He caught her, and fell to the ground, his body protecting Lucy's from the impact.

"G-Gray…" she coughed.

"Lucy. You are not dying. You are _not_ dying on me!" cried Gray. She looked up at him. He realized there was no saving her.

"Gray…I-I knew you were dumb, but really?" she smiled.

"Lucy…" sobbed the prince.

"Gray… I really thought I could never like you. But…though we are born of the same union, I know what is in my heart."

"Your feelings are mine, Lucy," he assured her. "Shh… rest easy. It's all over now. You're—" he choked a little. "You're safe now."

Lucy smiled.

The world seemed to be spinning.

"Safe…I am?"

She paused for a moment to consider the strange word.

Suddenly the men of King Jude, along with the man himself, burst into the scene. They took one look at Lucy.

"Lucy!" King Jude screamed. The men were shocked at seeing their beloved princess so bloody.

They turned on King Makarov. "Never. Again. Will you take any of my children!" yelled King Jude. He rushed into battle with his men following faithfully, determined to avenge their sweet princess.

"Gray."

Juvia rushed over from her place and kneeled next to Lucy and Gray. She was crying. "Oh, Lucy… I'm so sorry," she whispered. She stroked Lucy's golden locks.

"Juvia… don't be," reassured Lucy. She gasped and started breathing with more difficulty. She focused her gaze on Gray.

"Gray… if I die now, in your arms… I am the happiest… girl… who lived," she smiled.

Gray tried to smile back. "You're not dying," he insisted.

Lucy shook her head. She took her final, dying breaths.

And she closed her eyes for the last time.

King Jude screamed bloody murder, and, sword in hand, ran to King Makarov, who was undefended. All of Makarov's men had been slain long ago.

With one swift strike, King Jude impaled Makarov much like the soldier had stabbed Lucy. The old king clutched his wound, and lay dying on the ground. However, all of the attention was focused immediately back to the dead princess.

Tears streaming down his face, Gray kissed Lucy on her forehead. "You're safe, now," he whispered.

All the soldiers put their right hands on their hearts. They whispered silent prayers for the deceased princess.

Gray picked her up. King Jude looked at him.

"You have grown, son." He still sounded weary and miserable, but there was a faint note of pride in his voice.

"It's been too long, old man," retorted Gray. "I have a feeling Lucy and I will like it much better back home."

* * *

**A/N**: Oh my gosh, that was so depressing. I can't believe I actually wrote a tragedy fic. Anyway, although I had made this last Sunday, I only uploaded it today, because even though the electricity came back on, our Internet broke down. Plus, there had been a problem in our laptop, so I haven't been able to use it till today. So this story is in the same state as it was when I wrote it in the span of two hours last Sunday. I wasn't patient enough to fix it anymore.

Leave a review, guys! They're what keep me going.

I hope you liked this. I have a feeling that I'll be writing more GrayLu fanfictions.

Oh, and I just wanted to ask, do you think I write well for a twelve-year old? Because sometimes, I think the because I'm a kid, I don't really know how to write…

But yeah, just in case you're doubting, I really am twelve years old.

Thanks guys! I love you to bits. (You and GrayLu.)

P. S. I apologize for the millions of line breaks.

P. P. S. Did you notice that I used/based some of my lines from other stories? If you read as much as I do, you probably will.

P. P. P. S. No copyright intended. Love you to bits, guys!


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